


Meet me at the Overpass

by iridescent_blue



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: High School, M/M, also im backbackbackback back again, franks in a band, i dunno man, its cute as hell tho, just some teenagers havin fun man, mikey and gerard are kinda???? felons????? like maybe???, oh uhh you havent heard? i love neil gaiman, some kinda??? nsfw parts but nothing super graphic, you could read while on a road trip with family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescent_blue/pseuds/iridescent_blue
Summary: Mikey is the new kid. He and his brother have recently moved, and they're starting their junior and senior years in high school. Mikey wears sweater vests for some reason, and Frank and Pete eat lunch behind the auditorium.Just a little sappy high school AU that has taken far too long to write. It's got everything you'd want out of a good HS AU; mysterious pasts, lunchtime complaints about math, parties in warehouses, and some sweet get-togethers.





	1. Sweater Vests Never Should Have Been in Style

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm not dead! Shocker, I know! The last time I posted was September 12, 2018, and it's now June 9, 2019 (hAh its 6/9 today how fitting for me to come back). I started this story on October 5th of last year, and i almost finished it, but alas. Just wrapped it up tonight and here you go! Hope you enjoy! This summer I have a lot of time off so expect some more fic from me in various fandoms, and I have a couple more mcr ones on the way!
> 
> I present to you: highschool shenanigans!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uwu meet the s q u a d

“Hey.” Mikey looks up from his comic, pad thai laden fork halfway to his mouth. There’s a kid (presumably Mikey’s age) standing in front of him. He’s got short, spiky black hair and a leather jacket that Mikey would  _ totally _ wear if he had the chance. It has a bunch of pins stuck in it, and Mikey spots a Misfits pin, so this kid obviously is a candidate for a potential friend. He’s cute, too, so if he’s not an asshole and happens to be a bit bendy, he could maybe even be boyfriend material.

 

“Uh, hi? Who are you looking for?” The only time that someone talked to Mikey during lunch was to ask where someone else had gone in the library, or they were Gerard (Mikey didn’t count him as a ‘someone’ since he was Mikey’s brother). It was better than his old school, where he had to eat in the bathroom otherwise someone would deliver a punch to the stomach strong enough to dislodge any meal Mikey may have had in the past six hours. This was a welcome alternative. 

 

“I’m not really looking for anyone? I’ve seen you here for a few days and was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me and my friends at lunch if you wanted some people to sit with, but only if you want because I don’t want to pressure you to sit with us since that’s a shitty manipulative thing to do and I don’t want to do that to you and-”

 

“Sure, I’ll come to hang with you guys. If you guys are dicks, I’m obviously not gonna stay around, but it’s better than sitting and reading the same comic series over and over.” Mikey shuts his comic book and shoves it into his backpack, tossing his (now empty) container of pad thai into the trashcan nearby. He closes his bag and slings it over his shoulder as he stands up, realizing that this kid is  _ short. _ Mikey’s a little under six feet tall, but this kid is about half a head shorter than him. Honestly, it’s a little funny how short he is, but Mikey could care less because this guy’s smile is the brightest thing in the fucking world. Seriously, he looks like an overexcited puppy.

 

“C’mon… shit. Have I gone this whole time without asking what your name is? Holy fuck, I’m an idiot. An idiot named Pete. So, now that you know who I am, what’s your name?”  _ Ugh _ , why does Pete have to be so cute when he blushes? 

 

“Hello there, idiot-named-Pete, I’m Mikey. Now, where the fuck do your friends sit so I can not be alone during lunch?”

 

“Shit, yeah, okay, let’s go! I promise that we’re not a bunch of losers.” Pete grabs Mikey’s arm and drags him out of the library at a swift pace for him, but Mikey’s noodle legs keep up easily. Pete weaves through a bunch of hallways, then stops in front of the auditorium, then makes a sharp left into a side door that Mikey never knew existed. It’s a prop closet full of random shit, and Pete carefully picks his way through painted plywood set pieces and prop skeletons to the back of the closet, then pushes through an emergency exit door. Mikey knows he can trust Pete when he notices that the alarm linked to the door has been smashed and disconnected. Pete pushes through the door, and Mikey temporarily is blinded by the sudden natural light coming in through the doorway. 

 

Mikey quickly realizes that they’re on the side of the auditorium, standing on a bunch of steps that the set people use to bring in and out the big set pieces. In front of them is a crew is people, all who look a bit punk, like Pete. There’s a kid sitting a little off to the side wearing a cardigan and glasses, with chunky headphones on, connecting him to a computer where all of his attention is focused. There’s a guy sitting next to him with a huge head of hair pulled back into a bun pointing to things on the computer and quietly conversing with headphones kid, presumably about whatever headphones kid is working on. Next to them sit two guys, one of which has an out-of-control afro (which Mikey is a huge fan of), and one wearing a CrossFit t-shirt with tattoos poking out from under the sleeves. They’re sharing a pair of earbuds and listening to something intently, poking each other with wide eyes when the song reaches a good part. Mikey immediately decides that these guys are trustworthy, and hey, the afro kid is wearing a Ramones shirt, so at least they have good taste in music. The last person there is sitting a little off to the side, eyeing Mikey suspiciously. He looks familiar to Mikey for some reason, and Mikey gets the feeling that he might have seen him in New Jersey before he moved, but he can’t really be sure. He’s got shoulder-length hair and Mikey sees a scorpion tattoo peeking out of his collar. It’s a rad tattoo, but it doesn’t offset his feeling of unease from the piercing stare this kid is giving him. 

 

“Pete,” menacing-stare-boy says cautiously, “Why did you bring someone new to hang out with us?” 

 

“Frank I promise he’s alright! He’s new and was eating in the library and he also was reading Spiderman so just give him a chance, okay?” Pete looks downright miserable. Apparently Frank is some sort of lunchtime hangout gatekeeper for this area of the school. “Dude, seriously. He’s nothing like Bob.”

 

“Yeah? He’s ‘nothing like Bob?’ You’ve only talked to him  _ once _ , Pete. How can you be sure?” Okay, so Frank actually has a good reason for being suspicious of people sitting with them at lunch. He’s not some Mean-Girls-esque Regina George type, which reassures Mikey. 

 

“Can I ask what this Bob guy did? If he was a manipulative asshole who didn’t leave you guys alone, I can promise that I’ll try to not do that. I knew a couple guys before I moved who did some pretty shitty stuff and were really horrible guys and we actually moved in part because of them, so I guess I could be considered a generally good human?”

 

“Yeah, you pretty much nailed it.” Frank has given up on the whole ‘be a dick to the new kid who’s gonna sit with him,’ and now actually seems to be a good person. “Shit came up with me and an ex and we had figured it out between us and I started seeing someone else, and he started giving me shit about it to the point where the entire school knew and was in on it, and it got to a point where I couldn’t go to school without getting bitched at or beat up since my ex was kind of a popular girl and I’m this reclusive piece of shit, so if you feel like doing any kind of stuff relating to that, then kindly fuck off. If you don’t, then go ahead and chill with us.” Frank smiles. “Also, you like Spiderman and you weren’t totally put off by Pete’s crazy-ass self, so I guess you’ll be okay here.”

 

“Yeah, I can pretty surely promise that I won’t be a manipulative dick to you or any of the rest of these guys.” Mikey looks around and sees that the rest of the group is staring at him, and probably has been for the duration of his conversation with Frank and Pete. They all seem pretty neutral about Mikey joining them for lunch, and some of them are actually smiling. 

 

“So, I should probably introduce you to the guys,” Pete says, slinging his arm around Mikey’s shoulder and pulling him to sit down. He points to headphones kid. “That’s Patrick, he’s a musical genius and a great guy who will bring you a milkshake at three in the morning. Joe,” Pete points to the kid with the bun, “Is a really great guitarist and who you should call if you want to have a really deep philosophical conversation, or if you want to get weed. Ray has amazing hair,” Pete fluffs the afro kid’s hair, “And is willing to pick apart any song with you and discuss why the different parts do those things, and he also gives really nice hugs. Andy will kick your ass at Words With Friends and is also really fucking strong, so if you need someone to help you move, he’s your guy.” The guy with the tattoos under his shirt grins and quickly waves at Mikey before turning back to Ray and beginning to discuss music once more. “You know Frank already, and I promise he’s not as much of a dick as he seems to be. His birthday is also on Halloween which is the best thing ever.” Frank nods in confirmation. 

 

“So, there’s one more informal test to see if you can actually be our friend and hang out with us. What music do you like? I’m telling you right now that if you have a bad taste in music, we actually can’t be friends whatsoever, so choose wisely.” Frank pushes his hair out of his face and leans forward, waiting for Mikey’s answer. 

 

“I guess it would be a sin for me to not like the Ramones or Bowie, and I got to see the Misfits a few years back which was absolutely insane.” Mikey looks down at his hands, rubbing them together. If Frank didn’t like his music taste, he was fucked. Music was the whole reason that he’s in this situation in the first place. “Queen is kinda what I was raised on, so they’re definitely up there. I was sort of in love with Morrisey and wanted to marry him a couple of years ago, too. I don’t know, stuff like that is really nice. Jersey has a really nice punk scene, so it was kind of my gateway into punk and metal. I hope that’s an acceptable music taste, in your opinion.” Mikey glances up, and a small smile breaks out on his face when he sees Frank and Pete’s huge grins. “Oh yeah! I also play bass, which is really fun. Sometimes I write stuff with my brother, and it’s awesome.”

 

Pete immediately tackles Mikey in a hug. “Oh hell yeah! I play too! Maybe we can form some sort of bassists union and fight the neverending regime of lead guitarists!” That statement earns Pete a punch from Frank.

 

Mikey smiles. These guys definitely were people he would want to hang out with more. “So, Frank, do I have an acceptable music taste? Will I be allowed to stay with you guys at lunch?”

 

“Will you be able to sit with us? I’m convinced you are a mind reader or something, Mikey. You have the most perfect music taste in the world! If there was a fucking chance that you couldn’t sit with us then, there is absolutely no way that we would stop you now! Honestly, feel free to hang out with us whenever you feel like it. You’re a pretty rad dude, Mikey.” Frank smiles. “Wait, do you have a brother or something? I swear that I’ve seen someone who looks kinda like you in some of my classes.”

 

“Oh yeah, that’s Gerard. Yeah, he’s my brother. I could get him to sit with us sometime if you want to hang out with him. That loser needs some friends. He’s like me but older, grosser, way less handsome, and also draws a lot more than I do.” Frank giggles, and  _ goddamn _ he’s familiar to Mikey. Maybe he’d run into Frank during a concert or something when he was back in Jersey. 

 

“Yeah man, that would be awesome. I can’t wait to meet him.” Frank stands, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Well, we gotta go. We got five minutes to get places, so we should get moving.” Mikey looked around and sees Patrick shoving his computer in his bag and fist-bumping Joe. Ray packs away his sandwich, Andy shoves his earbuds in his pocket, and Pete grabs Mikey’s arm and pulls him up. 

 

“Yo, Mikey, you should totally come to this party in a few weeks! It’s gonna be dope as fuck, man. Frank’s band is gonna be playing and it’s gonna be super awesome.” Pete opens the door and begins weaving his way through the prop closet, pulling Mikey with him. “Maybe you could even bring your brother with you!”

 

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask him.” Mikey shoves through the door back into the hallway and turns away from Pete. “I gotta go to chem, but I’ll see you later.”

 

“Wait!” Pete grabs Mikey’s arm. He swings his backpack around him and grabs a sharpie from a random pocket, offering it to Mikey. “Give me your number and I can text you the details of the party and shit.” He pulls his sleeve up, and Mikey, giving up on any sense of self-control, scrawls his number on Pete’s forearm. Pete smiles and Mikey has met a lot of people in his life who are pretty happy, but none of them had radiated so much pure puppy-dog energy. “Sick! I’ll text you later.”

 

“Okay, you do that. I gotta go, otherwise, I will get my head ripped off. See you later.” Mikey turns and walks away, smiling softly. Maybe he could actually have friends here. 

 

-_-

 

Mikey shuts the door behind him, dropping his backpack onto his bed. He flops onto his bed and sighs. High school sucks. Math is shitty and Mikey is horrible at it, so his teacher already hates him, but this year he has to actually try and get a good reputation, instead of how he was in Jersey.

 

“Hey, Mikey.” Gerard opens the door, much to Mikey’s dismay. He wanted to be alone right now.

 

“Hey, Gee. What do you want?” Gerard sits down on the edge of his bed. 

 

“Nothin’. I’m just wondering how your day was because mine was pretty shitty and I’m hoping yours was slightly better.” Gerard pulls Mikey up into a sitting position and Mikey pulls off his sweater, then lies back down, his Black Flag shirt finally uncovered. 

 

“I don’t know. I forgot how shitty it was to follow the rules and shit. I mean, I have people to chill with at lunch now, so that’s kinda nice. They seem kinda like the kids back in Jersey, which is nice. You could come and hang with us if you wanted.” 

 

“I don’t know, Mikes. What if shit goes bad and we end up in a situation like Jersey?”

 

“Trust me, Gee. These guys are cool and they’re super chill. They’re a bunch of music kids and all of them are into the shit we’re into.” Mikey watches as Gerard’s face softens. “They offered for you to come and sit with us if you wanted. God knows you need some more friends,” Gerard shoves him, “Come on, dude, it’s true and you know it!”

 

“Oh fuck you.” Gerard’s smiling now. “Fine, I’ll come and hang out with the music losers. Did anything else happen today?”

 

“I may have been invited to a party that’s happening in a few weeks?” Gerard stiffens.  _ Shit. _ “This kid Pete invited me and his friend Frank is going to be playing at it with his band and it sounds really cool and they also said you can go if you wanted to.” Gerard warily glances at Mikey. “We’re not in Jersey anymore, Gee. We can do this shit now.”

 

“I know we can do this now, but I’m still worried. You sure that nobody knows us here?”

 

“Yes, Gerard, I’m sure that no one knows us here. If they know about what happened in Jersey, I can confirm that nobody recognizes us.”

 

“Ok, well, if you’re absolutely sure, then I’ll come and hang out with you guys and maybe go to this party. Only if they don’t know who we are at all.” Gerard’s worries aren’t entirely out of place. Jersey was a pretty shit time. They might’ve spent the first fifteen years of Mikey’s life there, but the situation there had become abundantly shitty, and it ended in them getting pretty much kicked out of their town and blacklisted in almost all other surrounding towns.


	2. They had to do it to em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We love backstory in this house
> 
> also completely disregard my lack of knowledge of local government i needed to sacrifice that for the plot

Gerard wasn’t lying when he said that shit was bad in Jersey. Honestly, Mikey loved Jersey, but when they got practically kicked out of their fucking town, he loved it a little less. The reason that they got kicked out did warrant an explanation.

 

To put it simply, back in New Jersey, Mikey and Gerard were absolutely fucking insane. They were the assholes who drove with the windows down blaring rock music. They were the dicks who wore shredded band t-shirts and sat in the back of the class and asked the teacher why they were learning about and idolizing white genocidal maniacs who erased huge parts of culture. In their small, moderately conservative New Jersey town, that seemed to be a fairly large problem. Honestly, Gerard and Mikey couldn’t imagine why.

 

To top off their shitfest of a town, they had some sort of Footloose-style ban on specifically, for no fucking reason, punk, along with rock and roll. Apparently, there was a goody-two-shoes kid who got in a fight with some punk kids, and this kid ran to his dad in the town government, and they managed to ban any kind of music that didn’t happen to be pop or country or some kind of shitty rap. It was pretty ironic, considering that northern New Jersey has an  _ incredible _ punk scene. So, Gerard and Mikey grew up with their parents playing classic rock at an uncomfortably low volume, then telling their kids that  _ technically you shouldn’t be listening to this, but it’s really good and you should hear it, so if you don’t tell anyone, we can listen to it. _ When Gerard got his license, it was a declaration of freedom for him and Mikey. They never spent a night on the weekends in town. They were always at a club that was twenty minutes away from the town border, thrashing around with the rest of the clubgoers and forgetting that this was illegal twenty minutes away.

 

They were both pulled over a total of forty times until the policemen gave up. They could stop them from playing rock music for a few days, but at some point, they stopped caring. As soon as they stopped caring, the ante was fucking upped. Since there was no threat anymore, Gerard and Mikey  _ blasted _ music to the point that the cops weren’t coming to them because of the music, but rather, because of noise complaints. 

 

The ban on their music didn’t ban their clothes, so their aesthetics went completely off-the-wall. In a town of stereotypical jock boys and Molly Ringwald-esque girls (like Sixteen Candles/The Breakfast Club Molly Ringwald, not the Molly Ringwald that shows up in Riverdale because god _ damn _ that was a fucked up episode), Mikey and Gerard were the two guys who took that stereotype and fucked it up against a wall (seriously, they both had their fair share of closeted-jock fucks while they still lived there). They went all out, wearing spiky leather jackets instead of varsity ones, raggedy old punk band shirts when everyone else had rappers or the hottest pop star on theirs, grew their hair out and attacked it with a million products, and Gerard even wore eyeliner. Apparently, their free expression made the overly-jocky guys have the need to give them black eyes. Constantly being jumped meant that they knew how to break bones and bruise the worst parts of their tormentors, and the guys that beat them up quickly learned to avoid them. People had tried to get the Ways in trouble before, but they never did, since they were technically defending themselves. Mikey almost ripped a guy’s balls off, which did get them in trouble. It wasn’t enough trouble to get them kicked out of their town, though. That was something else. 

 

In their small, lovely, moderately Christian town, there were a fair amount of God-fearing homophobes. Gerard and Mikey’s expression and refusal to follow the rules and go to church had them frantically clutching their pearls already, but it all went to shit when they found Gerard blowing the priest’s son in a confessional booth. That’s what really raised hell in their town, and the Way family became ‘those people.’ You know, the people that no one is willing to talk about because, in their opinion, they are just such horrible people with such despicable, god-hating morals that you can’t even refer to them by name. The only people that were actually nice to Gerard and Mikey were the art and music teachers. They knew that Mikey and Gerard actually liked their classes, and the art teacher also was definitely gay, so when Gerard got caught with the priest’s son, he got a high five. 

 

Surprisingly, Gerard blowing the extremely homophobic priest’s son (and then eventually dating him in secret for four months) wasn’t enough to get them kicked out of their town. That was Mikey’s fault. 

 

It was April of Mikey’s sophomore year, and one of the biggest dicks of his grade had decided to throw a huge blowout party at his house over spring break. It was the  _ perfect _ time to crash a party and fuck shit up. It’s not like those good little Christian babies had stayed good all through high school. Their town was a shitty place for the Way family, and Mikey made that abundantly clear.

 

The night of the giant-ass party, Mikey grabbed Gerard and dragged him out of the house after explaining his plan. The only person to hate this town more than Mikey was Gerard himself. So they both pulled on their concert-attendee gear (aka what they normally wore, plus a lot more spikes), and pulled up to the party, shouldering their way through the crowd until they found the clique of the most popular kids in town. 

 

Mikey promptly broke all of their noses. He was fucking done with their shit. These pieces of shit had made his life hell for fifteen years, and they deserved what was coming to them. Mikey and Gerard were ready to leave this shithole of a town, and beating up the sons of the most powerful and successful people in the town was a surefire way to do it.

 

Sure enough, the families of the dicks with broken noses started a campaign to get the Way family out of their Good Christian Suburbs ™ and this happened to include signs along the road that said things like ‘SATANISTS AHEAD! WATCH OUT!!!’ and “VOTE AT TOWN MEETING ON THE PUNISHMENT OF MICHAEL WAY!!!” For a small town in Almost-Somewhereville, New Jersey, these people were  _ hellbent _ on getting rid of a small family with a disregard for any kind of stupid judicial decision, such as kicking a family out because the town’s leaders had to have everything their way, and the one family that didn’t adhere to the perfect cookie-cutter family stereotype had to go. In Mikey’s opinion, they were all much better off smoking a blunt and minding their own fucking business.

 

Their plan worked. At the end of June, they packed up their house and left New Jersey, headed out to the (relatively) far away suburbs of Chicago. Mikey and Gerard might have left New Jersey, but their names hadn’t. People noticed that they had left, and when news and video broke of Mikey fucking these guys up while yelling why he was doing it over and over again, the status of the Way brothers  _ skyrocketed _ from children of the Satan worshippers to the cool punk guys who took a fucking stand against the dicks of the world who did what most bullied punk kids only wished to do. People actually liked them for once, and they weren’t even there.

 

While their names were getting big in Jersey, Gerard and Mikey tried to settle into suburbia life, trying to blend in with the rest of their neighborhood and town. Well, until Pete got into their lives.


	3. Party Rockers in the House Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big boy chapter incoming
> 
> also near the end things get slightly nsfw so please put this down if you're in church

Mikey flops down on the concrete staircase and groans. “Fuck man, I’m actually going to find the person who decided that AP classes needed to exist and I’m going to stick a rusty railroad spike in their intestines.”

 

Gerard sits down behind him, crossing his legs and using Frank as a makeshift pillow as Frank leans against the railing post. “Apparently someone doesn’t like calc. Honestly, Mikey, if you’re so serious about how much you hate calculus, switch down to trig and analysis. No one cares.”

 

“Yeah but if I switch down then I need to do extra shit next year and I am not spending all of my senior year working on getting credits. This dude is gonna fucking party.”

 

“Yeah, with a bunch of comic books and the entirety of Star Wars playing in the background. Try all you want to pretend that you’re such a cool guy, but you’re a nerd who cried over Infinity War and Deadpool 2 so shut the fuck up.” Gerard pokes Mikey’s shoulder with his toe, shoving him far enough so that Gerard can stick his feet out and shift more of his weight onto Frank, who grunts. 

 

“Yeah, fuck you, fine. Point is, I wanna pass calc and apparently that is going to take my sanity. Honestly, I’m ready.” Mikey closes his eyes, thankful for the sun since the school is  _ cold. _ It’s the time of the year where it’s too cold for air conditioning but the school hasn’t turned on the heat yet and the A/C is still going strong two weeks into October. The sun is a welcome change.

 

“Hey, it’s my favorite guy Mikeyway!” Pete plops down next to Mikey, resting his head on Mikey’s stomach. “You thought about the party since last time I asked?”

 

“Pete, for the love of everything holy on this earth including Freddie Mercury, yes, I have thought about the party, and yes, Gerard and I are still planning on going. Honestly, you need to stop overthinking this, you absolute fucking egg.” Mikey lifts his hand up and pokes Pete in the cheek, and he sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

 

“Yeah Pete, we aren’t going to bail on you. Mikey and I actually have been to parties and contrary to popular belief, we enjoy them. We’re not flaky assholes.” Gerard looks pointedly at Pete, and when Pete makes eye contact with him, he raises his eyebrows in the signature Gerard ‘really bitch?’ pose. It never fails to put anyone in their place. Gerard is a fucking sass king and it’s the only way that Mikey learned to survive in their family. 

 

Frank pulls Gerard into a conversation about something involving music, but Mikey notices that it quickly devolves into long pauses followed by lingering glances punctuated by the both of them blushing and attempting to get back on track with talking about music. It’s pitiful.

 

Mikey passes the time by closing his eyes and tilting his head up so he can feel the sun. Pete grabs his hand and pulls it up to his hair. Mikey cards his hands through Pete’s hair (Pete really likes it for some reason) and enjoys the lazy early-October afternoon.

 

-_-

 

Gerard barges into Mikey’s room at two in the afternoon on the day of the party (which starts at nine, so Mikey is concerned as to why Gee is barging in so early, and it’s also a fucking  _ Saturday. _ Mikey needs some time to destress about literally everything that happens in his life). “Get your ass ready, Mikes, because we’re going all out for tonight.” He’s holding two bottles that Mikey knows all too well, and his hair is in a plastic bag and is slowly losing its color. 

 

That’s how Mikey ends up sitting on the toilet of their bathroom while Gerard carefully applies bleach to his hair. Gerard’s hair has already had the bleach washed out, and the fire engine red is currently sitting in his hair. Mikey’s hair has already been cut and the awful ‘triangle hair’ that he’s forced himself to have for three months is finally gone, replaced by his old hairstyle, and honestly, he’s never felt more like himself. Gerard carefully bleaches the long hair on top of his head, all while music is playing. 

 

While the bleach strips the color out of his hair, Mikey rifles through his drawers, pushing aside his sweaters and button downs that he’s been wearing for the past few months. He gets past the last grandpa-style sweater (he has to admit, they’re pretty comfy), and finds, buried under all that shit, his cutoff band tees with the sides that show his entire rib cage (which, by the way, is easily the  _ hottest _ thing one can wear). He snags a Smashing Pumpkins one and tosses it on his bed. He shuts the drawers and picks his way across a sea of dirty clothes and abandoned homework papers to his closet, where his leather jacket sits, unworn for the entirety of the school year so far. Mikey smiles as he takes it off the hanger and throws it on his bed, where it lands on top of his shirt. A pair of ripped black jeans and his scuffed Docs join the growing pile, and Gerard comes in to grab Mikey and drag him into the bathroom to wash the bleach out so Mikey will have time to let it dry and style it before he leaves. Gerard’s hair is already back to its signature cherry red, and Mikey feels like they’re back in Jersey, getting ready to leave their town and have a night to themselves, on their terms. His glasses (they’re so annoying and kind of ugly but he blends in with them on) come off and his contacts go in and he finally looks like he used to. It makes Mikey feel even better since they don’t have to leave the town to go to the party and their friends are actually going to be there. 

 

It’s eight at night when they’re finally good with their hair (Gerard wanted to cut Mikey’s hair a little more), and they’re dressed and ready to go when Gerard decides that they need makeup, so the eyeliner is dug out and Mikey almost gets blinded when Gerard pokes his waterline and he jerks forwards onto the pencil. 

 

It’s eight thirty when they finally pile into Gerard’s car (though Mikey is driving because he just got his license and is the better driver). They pull out onto the roads, and Gerard turns up the music (Queen, because Freddie Mercury is a wonderful bi disaster and it always gets them in the mood for parties) as they speed down the highway, lights flashing by. It feels like old times before their lives got uprooted, and it feels even better now. 

 

Mikey pulls off the highway and immediately starts searching for a parking spot in a run-down lot full of beat up cars (theirs is not out of place - Gerard has banged into plenty of things while driving). Thankfully, due to teenager’s bad parking jobs, he’s able to squeeze in between two cars parked  _ horribly _ (there is no way in hell they were sober and driving with that bad of a parking job), and Gerard shuts off the music as Mikey turns off the car. 

 

Walking towards the old building, the music grows louder. The drums and bass that they can hear are loud, pounding, and  _ actually good. _ Kids are milling outside, and they walk through a cloud of smoke before going inside. When they walk inside, there’s that faint scent of piss, sweat, and weed that hangs in the air in these places and never truly goes away. The floor is sticky under their feet with definitely more substances with alcohol.

 

The band on stage is loud and they’re thrashing around all over the stage. Upon closer inspection, Frank is up there playing guitar. “Hey!” Mikey yells and shoves Gerard, gesturing at the stage. “It’s Frank!” Gerard absolutely lights up and immediately abandons Mikey to push through the crowd of bouncing teens to get closer to the stage so Frank will see him. It’s absolutely pitiful, but it’s the happiest Gerard has been in a while, so Mikey can’t complain. Frank’s a good guy anyway.

 

Mikey scans the crowd, searching for anyone he knows. He spots a head of hair so impressive that it could only belong to Ray, and he carefully picks his way through the crowd, trying to get closer to the group. He doesn’t recognize many people here, but they all are dressed similarly to him, and he feels some eyes from guys and girls alike on him (some may be on his ass and  _ goddamn _ if that isn’t a great ego boost). As he scoots against a wall, he notices the amount of graffiti and stickers on the walls. A Sharpie scrawl reads ‘Stonewall Was A Riot,’ and there are pride flags hung up higher on the walls. Mikey has never felt happier. He got invited to a teenage gay club by a bunch of guys who don’t even know of his chaotic bi self. He loves these guys.

 

He finally ends up behind Pete. The guys are crowded together in a corner, watching Frank play and occasionally yelling with laughter when someone makes a good joke. No one in the group notices him, so he comes up with an idea. 

 

Mikey taps Pete on the shoulder and immediately yells “Hey, my friend was trying to set me up with a guy and he described a guy like you named Pete. Do you know him?”

 

Pete turns around and Mikey swears that he nearly falls over in shock. “Uh, yeah, I’m Pete,” he yells. “Who told you about me?” God, Pete is such an idiot. Mikey stays silent and watches the gears turn in Pete’s head. Pete’s eyes light up, and he flings himself at Mikey. “Holy fucking shit man!” He screams, “What in the name of Jesus did you do to your hair?” At this point, the guys have noticed Mikey and are pointing in his direction and yelling just to be heard over the music. Frank’s band is done (which sucks, Mikey would really have liked to see them play for longer, but Gerard is a beauty queen who needs to look perfect all the time, especially for his totally-not-boyfriend), and the speakers are giving out from the dance beats with synth bass that is way too loud and overpowering the entire song. Mikey grabs Pete’s hand and drags him through the crowd, changing course when he sees the telltale red of Gerard’s hair, and smiles to himself when he realizes that the short dude bouncing up and down next to him is Frank. 

 

He bumps into Gerard with his shoulder and once he is acknowledged, he points to Frank and then the door, never once letting go of Pete’s hand (who, by the way, still has his mouth open and looks like a pufferfish). Thankfully, Gerard is using his senses for once, and that goddamn ‘sibling telepathy’ that happens in the movies actually works for one fucking time in Mikey’s life, so Gerard grabs Frank’s hand and starts dragging him towards the door, following in the wake of Mikey’s elbows (he has long since realized that they are a rather effective weapon against drunk teens), and their posse begins to move towards the door once again. 

 

After what feels like forever in a purgatory of thrashing, sweaty bodies keeping them from the door, Mikey and Pete finally burst out into the night air (which is probably forty percent smoke at this point). They walk around to the side of the building, where Mikey realizes what this place is. It’s an infamous hangout spot for LGBT kids in the area, and Mikey has seen a ton of stuff about it while scrolling through Twitter and Instagram. His heart warms, and he looks at Pete, who has gone from fish back to a confused child.

 

“What the fuck was that about? What did you do to your hair? How the fuck do you look so good? Why in the name of our good lord and savior Jesus fucking Christ did you wear  _ sweater vests _ when you had shit like this?” Pete throws up his hands, and the rest of the crew gathers around Mikey. Gerard comes to stand with him.

 

“Alright, so, we may or may not have lied about why we moved here,” Gerard starts, “yeah, we told you that we moved because our dad got a new job and we had to move and we were bummed about it, but we actually… kinda… got run out of our town?” Gerard is currently blushing the color of his hair and Mikey can feel his face heating up too.

 

The guys are silent until Frank timidly asks, “Are you guys from Belleville? I used to live there and it was fucked up, man. My mom actually quit her job to get us out of there.”

 

Mikey scratches his neck and looks down at his shoes. “Uh, yeah. We kinda caused a huge fucking disaster which involved a lot of broken noses, and the town kinda went on a whole witch hunt for our family, so we kinda had to move away.”

 

“You guys saw the movie Footloose?” Gerard asks and gets affirmation from everyone. “Yeah. So, our town had this ban on punk shit for no fucking reason, and so our parents showed us all of this rock and roll stuff in secret and so we kinda took that and became those assholes who drive around town with the windows down and music blasting and shit like that and we got arrested, like, a lot, so that was great because they eventually gave up.” Gerard is slightly winded, and when Mikey finally looks up, the guys are staring at them in awe.

 

“Hold up.” Frank throws his hands up. “Are you guys the Gerard and Michael of Jersey fame? You guys are basically royalty for actually living there for so long and then pulling a stunt like that. Everyone in Jersey knows you guys!” Frank looks like an overexcited puppy or a starstruck fan meeting his idols. He grabs Gerard by the hand and drags him away, excitedly talking until they’re out of earshot. Ray and Andy turn to each other and start decompressing, and Mikey hears a fair amount of ‘holy fucking shits’ between the two of them. Patrick looks like he’s going to collapse and is leaning against the wall of the building, and Mikey is tempted to ask if he needs an inhaler, but Joe walks over to him and supports him, pulling him into a conversation. Pete takes Mikey’s hand and walks around the side of the building, so he can talk to him quietly and with a bit more privacy.

 

“So you’re kinda badass, that’s what I’m getting from this whole story.” Now Pete’s the one blushing and scuffing his shoe on the cement. 

 

“Not really. I was pissy and ended up getting my family moved to another fucking town and completely upended my life and fucked up my entire brain to just try and fit in. Totally fucking badass.” Mikey’s kinda done with the whole ‘this is badass’ thing. He just wants to do what he wants to do.

 

“Well, that isn’t super badass, but you’re still pretty fucking cool.” Pete’s blush deepens and  _ holy shit this boy is absolutely fucking adorable. _

 

“Eh, think what you want of me. You’re pretty cool yourself. I like you a lot, Pete.” Fuck. Why does Mikey have to fall for  _ this _ guy?

 

Pete is looking at his toe as it scrapes against the beat up concrete of the sidewalk. He mutters something, and then before Mikey notices what’s happening, Pete’s grabbing his neck and suddenly a pair of lips are on his and Mikey has done this so many times but it’s never been like this. Pete’s lips are warm and soft against the cold fall air and Mikey closes his eyes and brings his hand up to rest on Pete’s neck and pull him closer, but Pete pulls away.

 

“Fuck, I should not have done that. You’re probably straight anyway and this is going to fuck up everything and it’s awful and you’re going to stop hanging out with us and I’m going to lose a super great friend and I hate it so much! I hate myself why the fuck did I do that stupid thing! But you’re a really good kisser and-mmph!” Pete was talking for too long and saying too much shitty stuff, so Mikey decides to shut him up by grabbing his face and kissing him again. He winds his hands in Pete’s hair and feels the product in his hair. Pete wraps his hands around Mikey’s waist and pulls him closer, sighing into his mouth.

 

Mikey breaks the kiss for long enough to catch his breath, open his eyes, and say “Pete, I’d like you to know that I am possibly more bisexual than Freddie Mercury, and you are a very good kisser. You didn’t fuck anything up, and I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” He gives Pete one of his fairly rare genuine smiles. “Now kiss me again because I haven’t had a cute boy in my arms like this for way too long.” 

 

Pete complies, pecking his lips and leaving Mikey whining in protest as he says, “So would this be a good time to ask if I could be your boyfriend?” Mikey lets out a very undignified squeak and nods. Pete giggles for a moment before his face hardens and he pushes Mikey up against the wall, looping his arms around Mikey’s neck and that motherfucker has the  _ audacity _ to smirk at him. “So now that I’m your boyfriend, can I shove you against walls and kiss you like I’ve wanted to for the past month and a half?” Pete’s fucking  _ growling _ and Mikey would not be able to lie and say that he was not at all horny.

 

It only gets worse when Pete crashes his lips into Mikey’s and wastes no time opening his mouth and Mikey has had other people’s tongues in his mouth, but this is different because Pete actually knows what he’s doing, and goddamn it, Mikey is so fucking far gone for this guy. The night is cold and Pete is warm and his hands are in Mikey’s hair and  _ fuck _ he’s pulling Mikey’s hair and Mikey tries and tries, but he can’t hold in the groan that escapes his throat. Pete pulls away and Mikey fucking  _ whines _ . That’s how fucking desperate he is. Pete has the audacity to lick his fucking cheek, and Mikey would be kind of disgusted, but it’s Pete so he really doesn’t care. Pete starts mouthing at Mikey’s jaw, murmuring something while he moves down to suck on Mikey’s neck. He pauses for a second.

 

“Can I give you a hickey?” Mikey sighs and nods, pulling Pete closer and kissing the top of his head. 

 

“Do you even need to ask?”

 

“Yeah. Consent is sexy, babe.” Before Pete can get back to doing whatever he does that drives Mikey up the fucking wall, but of course, Gerard has to ruin it.

 

“Mikey! I’m gonna stay over at Frank’s so can you make sure mom gets the memo? I texted her but I dunno if she got it,” He yells. Pete pokes Mikey in the side and winks at him.

 

“Yeah, sure thing. Use protection!” Mikey yells back, and Pete collapses into him giggling. Mikey can confirm, without even looking, that Gerard is blushing as red as his hair. Pete elbows him in the side, and when Mikey looks over at him, he giggles again.

 

“So, your brother is out of your house tonight.” Pete is not subtle. He is the furthest thing from subtle. He is also incredibly gross, but it’s the kind of nasty that’s a good nasty if you’re dating the nasty person. 

 

“Yes, he is. How observant of you, Pete!”

 

“First of all, fuck you.”

 

“Well that’s what you want to do, so how about I drive you to my house so that’s what will happen?”

 

Pete lights up and grabs Mikey’s hand, sprinting across the parking lot to the car. Mikey unlocks it and they pile in, and it’s a wonder that Mikey has enough autonomy to turn on the car and actually back out of his spot.

 

They pull onto the highway and Pete rests his hand on Mikey’s leg and there is  _ no fucking way _ that he is going to make it through the twenty-minute drive if Pete keeps sliding his hand up Mikey’s leg, slow and sure in his intentions. 

 

“Pete.” Mikey glances over at him, sending a death glare his way. The hand on his leg disappears, and Mikey would feel bad, but he really wants to fuck Pete and that can’t be done if they both die in a fucking car crash. The whole ‘starting to fuck in a car and then dying reminds him of something. “Have you read American Gods?”

 

“Yeah! It’s fucking amazing. Neil Gaiman is on deity level for me. Why?” Pete is so oblivious that he wouldn’t realize that he was about to get hit by a train until the train crashed into him.

 

“You know the one bit where Shadow learns how his wife dies while he was in prison and it was that she was sucking a guy’s dick while he was driving?”

 

“Yeah, that bit is fucking rough. It was Shadow’s best friend, too! Honestly, that’s just a shitty thing to do, and she had been cheating on Shadow when he was in jail.”

 

“I was focusing more on the whole ‘sucking someone's dick while they’re driving is a bad idea that will end in an accident’ bit, but okay. Can you hold off for like, ten minutes until I’m no longer driving to feel me up?” Pete nods and busies himself with the aux cord, and soon the car is full of soft ukulele that Mikey has never heard before. It’s nice, though, and a stark change from the pounding music at the party. Pete’s singing along softly, and his hand finds Mikey’s as he’s driving. It feels so calm, with the streetlights flashing by and illuminating their faces with a soft orange glow. Mikey wants this moment to last forever, but it’s not going to. It never does. Both boys never survive in happy gay stories. They always turn sad. There’s always a shift from the soft orange and yellow lighting that accompanies the happy ‘waking up together’ scene and the rest of the movie turns blue and gray when one of them dies of AIDS or gets hit by a car or gets murdered and then it follows the surviving guy down his road of depression and tells every young gay kid watching that they’ll never end up happy. Mikey feels like he’s in the happy half of the movie right now, and everything is going to come crashing down. Fuck it. He’s not going to be the guy in those movies who ends up happy and then loses everything. He’s going to live and be happy and have a good life, and the world can get fucked if it wants him to go somewhere else because he won’t.

 

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the exit, and it takes a poke in the side from Pete and a small smile for him to get out of his head. Yeah, life could go to shit, but it’s been going fine so far, so why does his brain want him to think that everything is going to end in fire and brimstone? Who cares, because he has a happy life right now, he has a brother who is okay for once and seems like he’s going to be okay, and he has Pete. That’s enough right now.


	4. God I'm Lonely (Alternately: can i get a boyfriend? can i Please get a boyfriend?)

On a normal night, Mikey would slam the door closed and not care about the amount of noise that he made on the way down the stairs to his room, but he doesn’t have that opportunity tonight. Instead, he closes the door softly, pulling Pete by the wrist through the hall. He passes his parent’s room and pokes his head in.

 

“Hey, Mikey. How was tonight?” His mom is lying in bed, reading a book, and his dad is already asleep, a lump buried underneath a plethora of covers.

 

“It was good, Mom. Gee texted you about how he’s staying over at Frank’s, right?”

 

“Yeah, he did.” She smiles as Mikey begins to edge his way out of the room to avoid getting sucked into a conversation with her. “Go to bed, Mikes. It’s getting kind of late.”

 

“Yeah, will do. I’ll probably be out early tomorrow morning, though. Friend stuff.” Mikey really needs to get out of this conversation because Pete’s hand has been on his ass the whole time and it’s getting a bit unbearable.

 

“Night, Mikey.”

 

“Night, Mom.” 

 

Pete drags Mikey down the stairs to his room (Mikey and Gerard had fought over who got the basement, and Mikey won, since Gerard hardly left his room anyway, and letting him have the basement would mean that he would never emerge). He stops at the end of the stairs and looks at Mikey. “I hope you know that you are absolutely fucking gorgeous.” Pete’s blushing and Mikey really wants to shut him up, and then realizes he can.

 

Without hesitating, Mikey grabs the collar of Pete’s shirt and crashes their lips together. Pete squeaks and carefully snakes his arms around Mikey’s torso, pulling them closer together. If they got any closer, Mikey is sure that they would fuse into some horrific amalgam of two twinks (god, he’d like to see that in a horror movie). He can’t think about horror movies for too long because Pete shoves his thigh between Mikey’s legs and  _ fuck _ that feels good. When did their shirts come off? Mikey doesn’t know and does not fucking care and now Pete’s pulling him towards his bed and it is going to be a long fucking night.

 

-_-

 

Mikey has never really done the “waking up with someone’s arm around you” thing before. Yeah, he’s shared beds with people, but it was always this awkward “I can’t be near you because I am afraid that showing any closeness, physical or emotional, towards other guys will make me less of a man” and not the pure, domestic closeness that he feels right now. There’s something special about waking up on a Sunday morning with soft light coming through the window and someone else next to you, holding you close.

 

Pete makes a noise and pulls Mikey closer to him, nuzzling between Mikey’s shoulders, and huh, neither of them are wearing any underwear. That is the opposite of a problem. 

 

Mikey’s phone buzzes. 

 

_Mothership:_ _Hope you had a nice night out. Pancakes are upstairs for you and Pete when you want them. Dad and I are heading out on a couple of errands. Text you when we’re on our way home. Love you lots xx_

 

There is something completely and totally indescribable to Mikey about his own mom saying that, and it makes him want to cry a little bit. Instead, he rolls over so that he can plant a kiss to Pete’s forehead. Pete leans up into him and slowly opens his eyes. “Whattimeisit?”

 

“Like ten thirty. You are an incredibly good space heater. Also, my mom made pancakes and she and my dad have vacated the house so we won’t have to deal with them.”

 

Pete immediately wakes up more at the mention of pancakes. “I will only eat pancakes if there is a copious amount of maple syrup to go with them.”

 

“You’re in luck because the rest of my family cannot consume any kind of breakfast food without syrup.” Mikey’s only known Pete for what, two months? That’s why it feels so strange to him that they are already so damn domestic with each other. 

 

Pete grabs his hand and drags him up out of bed after he pulls on his boxers and throws Mikey’s at him. He makes his way over to Mikey’s closet and is about to open the door when he suddenly realizes that isn’t the door that he came in through last night. “I want to pull you in the direction of pancakes but I don’t know where pancakes are.”

 

Mikey shakes his head and makes his way across his room to his actual door and up into the kitchen, Pete trailing close behind him. As promised, his mom has left them pancakes and they look golden and delicious and Mikey realizes that he hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday and he is fucking starving. He grabs two plates and two forks, hands one of each over to Pete, and takes more pancakes than he should but who cares it’s Sunday and he can do what he wants. Pete has already found the syrup (Mikey has to credit him for being able to navigate the fridge that well) and is drowning his pancakes in it. Mikey takes it from him when he’s done and pours out a much smaller amount onto his pancakes.

 

Mikey’s still pretty tired so he doesn’t notice that Pete has gone and sat down, and when Mikey turns to sit down he sees Pete and that motherfucker  _ waited _ for him. Mikey’s insides have already been melted by Pete’s sweetness about nine times this morning and at this point, he’s going to start physically dissolving from the perfectness of this morning. The sun is coming through the window and Pete looks absolutely stunning like a biblical painting or something like that. Mikey really isn’t religious but Pete looks so good that he’d get on his knees (and yes, Mikey knows that is absolutely disgusting but he doesn’t care. It’s a Sunday morning and he’s eating pancakes with his boyfriend, how good can life get?).

 

They both eat in relative silence, but that’s okay with Mikey because he and Pete are sharing warm smiles and sacrificing the dignity of using knives so they can hold hands. It’s almost too perfect, and that’s why Mikey is not at all surprised when Gerard comes barging through the door, yelling over his shoulder at Frank, and then stops dead in his tracks when he walks into the kitchen. 

 

Pete’s face goes white and he almost drops his fork. Mikey has lived with Gerard for his entire life, so he really doesn’t have any shame about his brother seeing him sitting in his underwear, eating pancakes on a Sunday morning. Also, Gerard’s neck is  _ covered _ in hickeys, so if anything, he’s more embarrassed than Mikey. 

 

“Uh, hi guys.” Gerard is pretending to scratch at his neck but it’s really to cover up the hickeys and Mikey knows it.

 

“Hey, Gee. Have a good night with Frank?” Yeah, sure, Gerard and Frank might be fuckbuddies but fuckbuddies don’t give each other that many hickeys.

 

“Uhh, yeah, it was pretty nice. I’m, uh, gonna go upstairs.” Gerard walks out of the kitchen, grabbing the last pancake on his way out, and hot  _ damn _ , Frank even got around the side of his neck? That’s dedication right there. 

 

Mikey gives it a count of five once Gerard leaves before he bursts out laughing. Pete no longer looks like he’s shit himself and is also smiling while Mikey continues to replay and subsequently giggle at what just happened.

 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ , your mom is gonna be pissed!” Pete says as he tries to hold in his laughter. It’s a valiant attempt. At this point, he’s red in the face and convulsing just a little bit.

 

“Nah, she won’t care. Provided Gee won’t get gonorrhea or become a father, she and my dad will be fine. Maybe he’ll actually start leaving the house if he has someone more interesting to go to.”

 

Pete snorts. “Hey, at least you’ve got better game than your brother. He isn’t going to get any action with his greasy ass.”

 

Mikey raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been looking at his ass?”

 

“I was referring more to the bird's nest on his head. You’ve got the only ass I’d want to look at.”

 

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

 

“No, I’m fucking an idiot.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Speaking of fucking idiots, that’s something I’d like to do right now.” Pete makes no sense. At all. But hey, it’s an invitation, and Mikey isn’t going to turn that down. He stands up, pulling Pete with him, and he doesn’t even have to turn around to know that Pete is beaming like a golden retriever who has just seen someone pick up a stick.

 

-_-

Lunch really isn’t that different at school. Gerard still uses Frank as a pillow, though they show up to lunch much later, and a lot more disheveled. Pete and Mikey stay how they’ve always been, but now they hold hands and share little kisses when the majority of the crew is ignoring them. Everything stays the same, it just feels closer. 

 

They get stares walking in the halls. Not because they’re dating, but because Mikey Way apparently has a sense of style. Why did he ever decide to wear sweater vests?

 

Yeah, maybe the beginning of high school was rough, but Mikey wouldn’t trade his junior year for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof yall peep where i left off for four months and came back? we stan a king with no consistent writing style
> 
> but yeah, that's it
> 
> i posted it all in one day for u lil babies so you wouldn't have to wait for my beautifully written prose
> 
> but leave a comment or a kudo if u liked it because maybe then i'll post some more shit rather than fucking off for half a year and then coming back again

**Author's Note:**

> uGh hi!! I thought I'd just update yall on my life real quick, cause some funky things have happened!
> 
> I'm a trans guy and as of today (6/9/19), i'm just over 2 months in on testosterone! fun and funky!
> 
> i went to see Frank Iero and the Future Violents in concert and it was INCREDIBLE. fucking insane and made me get all fired up to start makin music (which i'm gonna do this summer with some friends). also, frank is really that small. he's little. but yeah that was insane and they played percocet and im a mess and weighted so yeah i kinda died there
> 
> hope yall have had a nice few months and will continue to have a nice existence!!
> 
> xx blue


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